


This is What We Do Every Single Night

by lilithtorch2



Series: BuckyNat One-Shots and Short Stories [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: F/M, Feelings, Implied Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-03 05:13:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1066167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilithtorch2/pseuds/lilithtorch2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She waits for me, in the place we call home. Or maybe I wait for her.<br/>I come home late from a mission. Or maybe she does. That doesn't matter.<br/>What matters is how everything unfolds."</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is What We Do Every Single Night

This is what we do. Every single night.

She waits for me, in the place we call home. Or maybe I wait for her.

I come home late from a mission. Or maybe she does. That doesn't matter.

What matters is how everything unfolds.

We actually talked about this before it all started. It's unromantic, I know, but I didn't want to hurt her. She tells me, she doesn't care because she can hurt me too. I guess we're both into that kind of stuff. It's not that one person is dominant and the other person is submissive. It's a dance between two people on equal ground. After I close the door, she grabs me to one side and starts to fight me. I know that she can fight; she also knows that I can take her punches. Sometimes I block. Sometimes I let her actually hit me. She does the same.

Sometimes we even use knives. You think it's violent, but it's part of the dance. The slashing and the pain and the parrying. Seeing who gets closer first. We always end up knocking each other's knives to the floor, because we are, after all, the top two assassins who were trained in Russia. Knife fights are nothing compared to everything else we've done.

With an opening I rush her and tackle her down. We do this because in every relationship, there are always arguments, but in our case we could never express them until now. And this is where it gets messy. Fun, even. The first time we tried this, the lamps fell and the coffee table broke, and we didn't know how to explain that to S.H.I.E.L.D. (they're paying for housing and furniture) so we've been more careful ever since. If I'm on top of her, she manages to push me off and if she's on top of me I get her off me. We release our negative emotions this way. Then I shove her against the wall or something. She likes the rush. It turns her on.

We never had this much time in Russia. We hurried, we rushed, we pushed through the pain. We never knew how our bodies moved. We never knew how capable they were of conducting so much emotion. Now we take the time to get to know each other in a new way, to reveal our flaws, and every curve, every scar.

This is where we see each other smile; a genuine smile, not the kind that is hiding a secret. We show each other our desires and I wait for her and hold her closer if she winces a little. She does things to me that I didn’t know she could do and sometimes she giggles, because she didn’t know she could do that either. Sometimes she laughs nervously, because she is not used to so much sharing. Neither am I, but I don't admit it. I like to think that I hide this better than she does.

And then when we are completely and utterly done, she puts her head under my chin and wraps her arms around me. I keep her warm. By this point, I am tired, but I force myself to stay awake, so I can hear her voice, the pitch of it and how it lilts. What we talk about, well, every day is different. We fill up the rest of our night with our voices and our words, until we fall asleep, collapsing into each other from our battle.

This is what we do, because I need to know she's really here.

This is what we do, because she needs to know I won't go away again.

This is what we do, because we need to feel.


End file.
